


Hibernaculum

by aapicula



Series: Words of the Day [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Purgatory, cold!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aapicula/pseuds/aapicula
Summary: Dean and Castiel hike through the cold to hunt for the Leviathan blossom. Then it starts snowing.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Words of the Day [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589242
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Hibernaculum

Hibernaculum | [n], winter quarters, as of a sleeping animal

~~~~~~~~

Purgatory is  _ cold _ .

It had never really occurred to Dean, the first time around, but Purgatory definitely did have seasons. And he and Cas are dropped into something frigid and fierce with a wind that tore through his layers effortlessly. He ignores it. He doesn’t have time for cold. “C’mon,” he grunts at Cas, refusing to make eye contact. “Let’s look for this damn flower.”

They’re nearly silent as they hike. Cas has a vague notion of what they’re looking for, while Dean is completely in the dark. They’re both on high alert, every sense trained on the sounds of the woods, but it seems deserted for once. Maybe they’ve caught a break.

And maybe they haven’t.

It starts snowing less than an hour after they arrive, and Dean can’t hold the sigh in. Cas glances towards him, and his expression stiffens when he sees how tightly Dean is tucked around himself, trying to preserve body heat. Wordlessly, he takes off his trenchcoat and tosses it to Dean. Who, like the idiot he is, refuses to put it on.

“I don’t need this. I’m fine.” He plants his feet and holds the coat back towards Cas. The angel looks at him disdainfully, looking oddly unclothed in just his suit.

“I don’t care what you need, Dean.” His tone was colder than the wind whipping across his face. “You’re no good to me if you freeze to death, so put the damn coat on.”

Dean was stunned. Cas had  _ never _ spoken to him like that, even when he was just one of Heaven’s soldiers. He ignores the voice in his head that tells him he deserves this treatment, he brought Cas’ attitude upon himself and shrugs the coat on. It’s warmer, but it smells like Cas, and that hurts more than it has any right to.

They continue looking, and the hours pass. Dean is nearly dead on his feet with cold and exhaustion, but starts when he hears Cas lets out a triumphant cry. Cas bounds over to a short, scrubby plant and carefully cuts off several ugly flowers (of  _ course _ they’re ugly, this is Purgatory) and turns towards Dean, a proud grin lighting his face. It catches Dean off guard; for a split second, Cas isn’t angry with him. He isn’t angry with Cas, with the world. It’s just the two of them, trying to fight their way through Purgatory. Again. He wishes Benny were with them, just to provide a buffer.

(He’s also fiercely glad that Benny isn’t with them; he would punch Dean if he saw how cold he and Cas are after all they’d been through. He ignores this thought as well.)

He must look worse than he thought he did, standing there listlessly in the cold, because the smile fades from Cas’ face and is replaced by concern. He stuffs the flowers into Dean’s backpack before crossing back to the hunter. “Dean? Are you all right?”

He’s shivering. He hadn’t realized that. “M’f-fine, Cas,” he manages to stutter, and grimaces at how terrible, in fact, he does sound. Cas is seemingly unaffected by the cold and he’s jealous for a moment that the angel doesn’t need stupid things like layers or thermoregulation to survive.

“Liar.” Cas’ tone lacks the bite from before, and Dean wants to live in it. He pulls Cas’ trenchcoat closer around him and tries to nestle deeper into the thick fabric. Cas sighs. “Come here, Dean.” Without warning, he pulls Dean into his arms.

If he thought the scent of Cas’ coat was too much, then this was agony. Instinct has him pushing his face into Cas’ neck, seeking out the warm skin there. He lets out a silent apology when his cold nose bumps against Cas’ jaw, but can’t stop himself. Cas is so  _ warm _ and alive and there and….not hating him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He’s firmly ensconced in Cas’ arms now, pressed as close as he can. A gentle warmth suffuses him, and were he thinking a bit more clearly, he would notice the soft glow of grace around him. It isn’t an apology for needing the warmth, and they both know it. He works his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to make everything better, to help Cas understand what he’s been feeling. He fails, as he usually does with the emotional stuff, and instead repeats, “I’m sorry.”

Cas understands. He always understands, and Dean will never stop being thankful for it. His arms tighten around Dean, and he tucks his head down press his temple against Dean’s. “I know,” he whispers, and those two words nearly undo him. His eyes drift closed, basking in the warmth of his angel.

They still have so much work to do. They have to stop Chuck. One of these days, they’re going to have to sit down and talk it out and try to patch up their relationship, such that it is. But here, in the cold in Purgatory of all places, Cas and Dean take a moment to hide from the rest of the world, to just  _ be _ . To shut out the world and find rest in each other, just for a moment.

It’s not a lot. It’s enough.


End file.
